


Faith and Promises

by reluctantOracle



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Jewish Character, Jewish Identity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:20:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24628459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reluctantOracle/pseuds/reluctantOracle
Summary: Timothy Stoker hasn't been to a synagogue in a very, very long time. He's had no reason to, not at all, unless you count the promise he'd made to a lost loved one. So when he takes the step and finds someone familiar there waiting for him, he can't help but feel as though there's still a chance to find something of himself he thought he'd lost.Ashkenazi Jewish Tim, Reform convert Sasha
Relationships: Sasha James/Tim Stoker
Kudos: 14





	Faith and Promises

**Author's Note:**

> Yall can pull Jewish Tim out of my cold, dead hands. This is set before everything starts to go wrong, so it's just two people getting closer to each other and growing as people. Would be really awful if something were to tear them apart after this, huh?

He didn’t know why the conversation had affected him quite so strongly. It had been an innocuous chat, the kind that only office colleagues can have when teetering on the border between acquaintances and friends. Sasha had been stapling some sheets of paper together, and Martin had entered with a tray of steaming mugs. Tim didn’t even remember what he had been doing- something to waste time, probably. Sasha had sighed happily and dropped the stapler, accepting the offering. ‘Ugh, thanks Martin. Alphabetising is not as fun as you’d think.’ 

‘Oh! No problem.’ He paused before adding, ‘Actually, I don’t think I think that’s fun at all.’  
She laughed. ‘You boys don’t know how to live. Nothing is as satisfying as a perfectly angled staple and a clean folder.’ 

Martin shuffled forward, eyeing them both warily. It was a familiar motion, his hovering, and Tim accepted his own mug with a roll of his eyes. ‘Yes, Martin, you can spend your break with us. Do we really come across that standoffish?’   
‘No! I just wasn’t sure if you were busy, is all. I wouldn’t want to be in the way.’  
Sasha shuffled some of her pages and stacked them into a pile, clearing a space for him to sit beside her. ‘Don’t be silly! I was looking for an excuse to stop anyway- this one is useless. I need to keep working just to block out his rubbish.’   
Tim grinned and took a chair. ‘We are an efficient team’ 

The three of them settled into an easy silence, the vague sounds of muffled conversation coming from down the hall. This happened on a semi-regular basis; Martin would bring them tea, and they would all sit for a moment and relish the lack of activity. Usually, after a while, someone would mention Jon. Then the rest of their break would be spent trying to stifle laughter as they offered increasingly unsavoury interpretations of the man. Tim wondered if they should feel bad, but shook it off. The man was fucking miserable. It wasn’t cruel, exactly. Their new boss could just be difficult. 

This time, however, Martin said, ‘So. Is anyone doing anything for Christmas?’ 

Timothy Stoker must have heard that question over a thousand times throughout the course of his lifetime. Supermarkets, jobs, parties- anywhere people existed, they were asking each other about Christmas. He was more than used to the awkward chuckle, the shrug, the simple snowy white lie. But for some reason, sitting with his two colleagues in The Magnus Institute basement, he felt his blood freeze. 

Realising the time that had stretched between them, he blinked and forced his mouth to open. ‘Oh, no. I don’t really do Christmas. Jewish family, never sat right with me. Tried calling it a Chanukah bush and everything, no dice.’ 

‘Oh, Tim, I didn’t know you were Jewish!’ Martin’s eyes widened. ‘I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to make any assumptions, I…’  
‘It’s fine, really.’ He waved him off, ‘Happens all the time.’   
Sasha piped up, taking a sip before speaking, ‘Are you doing anything for another holiday, then?’ she asked. 

The lump returned to Tim’s throat. It felt like the room was bearing down on him, waiting for him to answer. Go on, it seemed to say. Tell them. Tell them you’ve got absolutely nothing. 

‘Nah. Doesn’t seem much point now I live on my own. That whole religion thing wasn’t me anyway.’ The lie was so thick it seemed to coat his tongue. The gulp of tea he took burnt his throat on the way down, and didn’t really help. ‘Might get some takeout if I’m feeling fancy, who knows.’ 

Sasha nodded, tilting her head to the side. She was twisting a loc in between her fingers thoughtfully, and for a moment Tim was worried she was going to question him further. But she just took another drink and turned to Martin, returning his question. Something about visiting his mother, and having to spend a few weeks minimum choosing the perfect gift for her. Tim stopped listening after a while, sinking himself into his own thoughts. 

No one knew that he hadn’t set foot in a synagogue since Danny had gone. That he’d moved halfway across the city to get this job because he knew that everywhere he went in North London would have markers of him, shining glazed and fresh in shop windows and peeking from under older men’s jackets. No one here knew any of it, but as he sat with the gossip of his coworkers fading from him, the room itself seemed to stare in accusation. 

The rest of the day had passed uneventfully. Tim’s phone had felt heavy in his pocket on the way home, and as soon as the door had clicked shut behind him he was scrolling, further back past friends and strangers and that one guy from the other night, shit he should probably call him- 

DANNY: hey dude! was thinking when i get back we should head back down to shul one sat. for old times sake.   
TIM: rly? yawn. how about Friday night, at least i dont have 2 wake up for that   
DANNY: no!!! come on its important   
TIM: fine fine fine whats with the sudden rekindling of faith   
DANNY: ;) gonna have to wait and find out

Tim squeezed his eyes shut to stop himself from crying. He’d meant to go, he really had. A kind of last farewell for a dead brother that only he knew about. But every time he’d thought about stepping through those doors, the knowledge that he’d never do it with Danny again sent him reeling. Did it make him a coward? That he was unable to fulfil a last wish? Was it even a last wish? It wasn’t technically something he wanted Tim to do. He had wanted them to do it together.   
He sat himself in the kitchen, opening a beer. ‘Have it your way.’ He said to the empty air. 

It had taken him another three weeks to pluck up the courage to email the nearest synagogue. It was about half an hour from the Institute by train, fifteen minutes from his flat. The days crept by achingly as he waited for the weekend. If his colleagues noticed, they didn’t say anything. They just let him pace, giving him wide berth. It was the quietest the place had been since he’d started working there. 

Finally, it was Saturday morning. He’d woken up several hours early, and now Tim stared at himself in the mirror as though he could psych himself up through eye contact alone. His bathroom was cramped, and he had to crouch slightly to get the full view of his head. Maybe he should shave before he left. Maybe he should do something with his hair. He smiled at himself, a flash of teeth that didn’t reach his eyes. He tried again, nodding. Once more. That one had been satisfactory enough. Hands unfurling, he took the kippah he’d been holding close to his chest and raised it. The thing had been in a drawer for years now, an heirloom from their-his- grandfather that now reminded him too much of something he had left behind. It was creased and faded with age, but the white embroidery thread still seemed to glint in the light, catching his eye. 

He recoiled and stuffed it into his pocket. 

The train ride was uneventful, and he tried desperately to ignore the gnawing paranoia that everyone was staring at him. It felt as though there was a sign hanging over his head, branding him in garish neon. ‘DOESN’T BELONG. WON’T BELONG. IMPOSTOR.’ 

It was nonsense, obviously. He was just a normal guy, on a normal train, on a completely normal Saturday morning. He stared at his phone, stubbornly refusing to give his anxiety the satisfaction of worried glances at the people around him. Plenty of time to get there, but not so much time he was at risk of being weirdly early. With any luck, the only person he would have to really talk to until the service began was the security guard. Afterwards he’d make some excuses, skip kiddush, and leave safe in the knowledge that he’d tried and he could stop feeling so fucking guilty all the time. Dead brother appeased, all is right with the world. Easy. 

The building was fairly easy to find, just a short walk from Finchley Road. It was an unassuming place, with a neat courtyard that had a couple of families milling around making conversation. He made a beeline for a broad man with a badge, who offered a friendly smile. ‘You must be Tim.’ He said. ‘I was told to expect you.’   
‘That’s me.’ He nodded and offered the smile he had rehearsed. The security guard shook his hand and gestured for him to follow, leading him through the crowd and into the building. 

‘You can take one if you want to, no pressure of course.’ he pointed over to a box of kippot, clearly noticing the absence of one as he entered.   
Tim stammered, laughing to cover his nerves. ‘Oh, no. It’s alright, I’ve got one. Thank you.’ He pulled it out of his pocket and uncrumpled it, placing it firmly on his head. 

It was a small patch of fabric, but seemed to weigh the world. 

He was handed over to an older smiling woman, who greeted him with a similar warmth and took him by the arm. ‘I haven’t seen you before.’ She said. Tim felt the smile fix onto his face stubbornly as though he were nailing it there. ‘Got out of the habit. I’m from North London, anyway, so you probably wouldn’t have seen me.’   
‘Oh, we have some people from that area here today! We’ll have to see if you know each other.’

Tim suppressed a groan. Of course they’d know each other, who was she kidding. 

‘I’ll put you over by another fairly new member, she’s been coming for a couple of months. She can show you the ropes and help you if you need it.’   
He nodded politely again and allowed himself to be led forward.   
‘Sasha, dear! This is Tim, he’s new. I thought helping him out might be good practice for you, if that’s alright.’ 

Tim’s mouth fell open. Stood in front of him clutching a book in her arms was Sasha. His Sasha. She didn’t notice him right away- she was busy talking to someone wearing a suit- but nodded and said, ‘Of course! That sounds like fun, its nice to,’ 

She trailed off when their eyes met. ‘Oh. Tim!’ she blurted. 

The woman holding onto his arm raised her eyebrows. ‘You know each other! Perfect, that will make it a lot easier. I’ll see you both later. Enjoy!’


End file.
